Tuesday 5 May 2015

1 Poem by Lana Bella


One morning
I woke with the sun
wearing my face and I knitted
until all the dropped stitches
and the joining ends were no
more than pale specks in the light.
Perhaps I should have spun
sideways and turned on the
kerosene lantern that lay upon
the wardrobe bay when the
thick clouds curtained
the outside dim,
instead I let the night
crocheted my dainty feet,
patched tight the
fractured skin where the
thin bone of the needle
narrowed into wool,
then it wove the
gold moon in the
strands of my
French twist
as I trailed it
behind me
to sleep.


Lana Bella has a diverse work of poetry and flash fiction published and forthcoming with Anak Sastra, Atlas Poetica, Bewildering Stories, Beyond Imagination, Buck-Off Magazine, Calliope Magazine, Eunoia Review, Cecil's Writers' Magazine, Deltona Howl, Earl of Plaid Lit, Family Travel Haiku, First Literary Review-East, Foliate Oak Literary, Garbanzo Literary Journal, Global Poetry, Ken*Again, Kind Of A Hurricane Press, Marco Polo Arts Literary, Nature Writing, New Plains Review, The Commonline Journal, The Higgs Weldon, The Voices Project, War Anthology: We Go On, Thought Notebook, Undertow Tanka Review, Wordpool Press, Wilderness House Literary Review, Featured Artist with Quail Bell Magazine, and now, Poetry Pacific. She resides on some distant isle with her novelist husband and two frolicsome imps.

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